Trio in Camelot
by glitteringhavoc
Summary: Harry didn't see how much harm could come from pulling a sword out of a stone but honestly, he didn't much care either. Post-war life was boring and with Ron & Hermione at his side, what did he really have to be concerned about?


"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Famous last words.

Harry ignored Hermione's last ditch attempt at sensibility. Truth be told, he didn't much care whether pulling the stupid sword out of the chunk of granite it was imbedded in was a good idea. A) It was his job as an auror to investigate any potentially dark artifacts formerly belonging to deatheaters. Well, really it was Ron's job as a member of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office or Hermione's job as a curse breaker but that's why they were both accompanying Harry in the first place. Harry may still be as reckless as an auror as he had been as a Hogwarts student, but not even he was about to go into the dungeon of Parkinson Keep alone. B) So what if pulling the sword out was dangerous? He was Harry Bloody Potter. He could take care of himself. He hadn't adjusted particularly well to post-war life, honestly. Things were entirely too boring for Harry's liking, even as an auror.

Wand in his right hand, sword in his left, the Boy Who Lived gave an almighty wrench, the sword sliding free of the granite like it was coming out of butter. Instinctively, Ron and Hermione had both grasped onto their friend's shoulders. It was a good thing too, as a mere second or two after Harry had relinquished the stone of its burden, there was a familiar pull at his navel. "Bugger," was all he had time to mutter before the portkey fully kicked in and his shoes left the ground. When the trio finally landed, it felt as if they had been in transit for an abnormally long time; none of them managed to stay on their feet.

Ron was the first to react, groaning loudly. "I think I landed on a root," he grumbled. Before the other two could respond however, there was the sound of loud clanging and hollering – metal on metal! The shouting sounded like fighting, for sure, but what the ruddy Hell could they be fighting with? Wands raised, the trio moved to investigate.

When they got to the source of the commotion, they were shocked. There was a fight going on, for sure. A fight full of people wearing armor and attacking each other with swords. Hermione gasped and Ron's mouth fell open so drastically it looked like an invisible orange had been shoved between his teeth. For his part, Harry nearly fell over. As they watched, hidden slightly by a line of trees, a very thin dark haired boy without any armor on deflected a spear rushing towards his skull with only a simple wave of his hand. Harry couldn't tell for sure from so far away but he was pretty sure the boy's eyes flashed gold.

"Merlin!" A blond knight yelled at the scrawny boy. "Get cover, for pity's sake!" The trio stopped breathing as one.

"...Hermione?" Harry asked softly, voice awed.

"We're... that sword... it brought us back to the time of King Arthur! That boy who just used old magic, pre-wand stuff, unless I'm mistaken, is Merlin." Hermione's voice was quiet too, sounding quite breathy.

Ron's eyebrows rose and he jerked a thumb in the lanky boy's direction "_That's_ Merlin? _The_ Merlin?"

"I think so. The insignia on the blond knight's shield is the mark of the Pendragons." Hermione responded. "And we should put our wands away. If I'm correct and we're in old Camelot, magic is forbidden here. It's something that people hate and fear." Suddenly, Harry and Hermione both tensed, apparently sensing the same danger. "That boy who shouted to Merlin is about to be seriously cornered and outnumbered." Hermione said calmly, looking at the ten figures rushing towards the already besieged knight.

"What do you reckon? We're all plenty trained in hand-to-hand combat. You any good with a sword, mate?" Ron asked, he and Harry both already walking towards the fray.

"Gonna have to be. I remember some basic blocking moves from Remus' exam in third year and I had to take a handful of combat classes with muggle weapons during auror training. Plus, I faired well enough against the basilisk, I reckon."

"Just keep your wands out of sight. No magic!" Hermione reminded them. With that, Harry and Ron broke into a sprint. The blond guy had his back turned when Harry reached him, but whirled at the clang of Harry's ancient sword making contact with the would-be assassin's.

"Who are you?" he asked gruffly, not even remotely demonstrating a hint of gratitude.

"Just a passerby," Harry grunted, kicking another attacker roughly in the gut. Harry spared a second to really look at the knight he had come to rescue. His sword was the same as the one in Harry's hand! Albeit a much less rusty and dirty version of Harry's sword. He had a giant crest on his armor as well, that matched the one on the sword. So, that was Arthur. On Harry's left, Ron was dispatching enemies with what could only be described as glee – punching and attacking them before they could even raise their swords. A quick look around showed Hermione already tending to wounded knights with Merlin right next to her.

By the time the fighting had settled down, Ron was sporting a broken hand and a huge crimson gash above his right eyebrow. He was also BEAMING. Harry was relatively unharmed, but between the blond knight and Ron he had been well backed. It was a miracle none of the wizards were more seriously hurt. Harry was actually feeling more than a little smug in the aftermath, truth be told. He had handled that sword pretty damn well, if he said so himself.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Harry James Potter." Hermione glared at him, even as she tenderly bent over her fiance's hand.

"Oh come on, 'Mione." Ron's own grin was splitting his face nearly in half. "We're all fine. Don't be such a wet blanket." The girl huffed in a put-upon manner that blatantly _oozed_ a biting: "ugh, boys!"

"Someone has to be practical, Ron, while you two muck about playing with swords!" Hermione huffed. Harry and Ron just rolled their eyes, not even bothering to quip back at her.

A knight with light brown hair, a devilish smirk, and apparently no sense, did not follow their lead. He flipped his hair in a way that reminded Harry forcibly of a young Sirius and bowed his head to kiss Hermione's free hand. "My lady," came his sultry murmur. "I know not the cause of your upset but I would fight these brutes twice over to make it not so."

For a split second, Hermione just stared at the knight wide-eyed. Seeming to recover her wits, she smiled flatteringly at the knight, gently pulling her hand away from him.

"Mr.?"

"Gwaine."

"Sir Gwaine," he flipped his hair again at Hermione calling him "sir." "_Confident sod_," Harry thought. "I assure you," Hermione continued. "If I need any assistance from the likes of you I will let you know. For now, however," here she let her smile slip. "I am more than capable of taking care of myself."

The slowly assembled knights snickered, apparently recognizing the humor in what must have been a fairly frequent occurrence. Ron was just beginning to open his mouth in indignation when Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed in a put upon fashion. "Besides," she continued. "My dear fiance's head might explode if you try and bring those lips of yours to me in any fashion again." Ron purpled. Gwaine's face looked surprised as his eyes fell on Ron. Ron just glared right on back.

"Stop pissing on trees," Merlin exploded, interrupting the staring contest. "We have wounded." Everyone turned to look at Merlin as he crouched over an exceptionally huge and pale knight, who had a large wooden shaft speared through his shoulder. Arthur and Hermione both dashed over. Harry saw Hermione slip her wand instinctively down her sleeve before catching herself and slipping it back into its holster.

"Are you a physician?" Arthur asked her. For a moment, the girl's face went blank. In reality, she was a witch from years in the future, was employed in a line of work where a stint working at St. Mungo's was required, and had seen more than her fair share of battle injuries. Finally, she settled for "in a manner of speaking."

"She has a bit of experience patching people up on the battlefield," Harry broke in, coming to the rescue. The whole trio did. Even Ron could tell just by glancing that the knight had missed all major arteries and would be fine once the spear was yanked out.

"We have to pull it out," Merlin said.

"Would you like to hold him, and I'll pull?" Hermione offered. Merlin looked dubiously at the large figure, only to sigh in relief when Arthur also took hold.

"Steady, Percival, steady." said the king.

Hermione snapped an end off of the spear and removed the pointed head. "Take a deep breath, alright Percival?"

The massive knight nodded, clenching the hand of his non-injured arm. As quickly as she could, the girl yanked the spear out. Percival let loose a groan but otherwise made no noise. Harry couldn't help but be impressed. In this time period, before any non-fungus related sedatives, these knights had exceptionally high pain tolerances. The bloke hadn't even cursed!

_Weeks later..._

Harry didn't have much of a choice at this point. He had to throw caution to the winds. He, nor Merlin, had much to lose anymore. If Harry didn't at least TRY to get Arthur on their side, Merlin was going to be burned by Agravaine and the future of the wizarding world as he knew it would cease to exist. Hermione and Ron were going to try and stop Agravaine, and if all else failed, they would protect Merlin with their lives. Harry took one last look at his friends as they dashed towards the castle courtyard, allowed himself a deep breath, and disapparated.

Determined to make his point, Harry apparated directly into the middle of the Camelot knights' camp. Harry had never been one for finesse and "sugar-coating" was a foreign concept. To their immense credit, despite being taken entirely by surprise, the knights had Harry surrounded within a few seconds of his appearance. "Harry," came Arthur's gobsmacked-sounding voice. "You... you're a warlock. You have magic!"

Harry raised his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry to have misled you but until now, my friends and I were trying not to interfere with your affairs. We can't afford to step aside now though, not when the future itself is at stake."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked gruffly.

"Your darling Uncle Agravaine is going to have Merlin burned." Harry responded.

Noises of alarm rose from all the knights, many questions being shot Harry's way all at once. "That's not possible!" Arthur's voice rose with his discontent, making itself heard over the din. "Why would Agravaine do such a thing?"

"Because Merlin is one of the most powerful sorcerers this world will ever know. Without Merlin, not only would you and all of Camelot have been wiped out three times over, but magic as I know it will no longer exist." Harry stared hard into the young king's face. Arthur's visage seemed torn between betrayed, crushed, angry, and worried. Harry felt for the guy but in the end, this was too important. _Merlin_ was too important. "All Merlin has ever done has been for you, Arthur. That's why Agravaine is having him killed. Morgana is tired of Merlin coming to your rescue and Agravaine would do anything for her. He isn't your uncle, he's her lapdog."

"Why should the king trust what you're saying?" Leon exploded angrily, Arthur just looking dazedly at the ground, completely unseeing.

"Arthur said he trusted me once, and he has trusted Merlin implicitly for much longer than I've been in Camelot. Considering neither Merlin or myself have ever hurt him, haven't changed our actions towards him, and as far as he knows have only ever used our powers to aid him, I don't see why he should doubt me now. Merlin is still the Merlin you all know, his magic isn't a new development. This revelation concerning his identity doesn't suddenly change his character."

"And Agravaine is, as we speak, having Merlin burned alive?" Arthur asked slowly. Harry nodded. "And Hermione and Ron are with him, I suppose?" Harry nodded again.

"Yes, Ron and Hermione will protect Merlin with their lives. Without him, we have no future."

"Take me to him," the king demanded.

"My lord?!" Leon burst out incredulously, not entirely keeping the edge of panic out of his voice.

"I will not abandon Merlin after everything he has done for me – what I know of and what I still do not. Harry is correct in saying that having magic does not change the fact that this is _Merlin_. At the very least, I intend to wallop him myself."

In short order, Harry had apparated Arthur and himself behind a pillar where they could witness the proceedings before rushing in blindly. Merlin was tied up to a hastily rigged platform. Hermione and Ron had already taken their positions next to Merlin, wands both out and raised. Hermione looked calm as ever but Harry could tell by the fist clenched at her side that she was angry. Ron looked very grim, standing slightly closer to Hermione than he was to Merlin, not that Harry could blame him. Ron would always put Hermione first. The war had changed his rather predominant self-oriented nature somewhat, at least where the female trio member was concerned. He had nearly lost her during the war, and he would never allow any harm to befall her again, not if it was in his power to stop it.

"You can't do this, Agravaine!" Hermione shouted. "Not without the king's orders."

"Little girl," Agravaine responded. "You have no authority here. Be silent and respect your station or I will have you shot." As if to confirm the threat, the archers lining the perimeter turned to aim at her. Hermione just narrowed her eyes. "Try it," she spat.

Agravaine tiled his head in such a manner as to suggest nothing more was going on than some sort of sporting event. With a wave of his hand, the archers readied themselves to take fire. Arthur rose to stop the proceedings but Harry placed a hand on the king's shoulder. "Don't worry," Harry said softly. "Hermione has things under control." Hesitantly, Arthur stood back behind the pillar.

The archers shot.

"_Protego maxima!_" Harry smirked at Hermione's choice of spells. She had purposefully picked a spell with a dramatic effect, one where the arrows would bounce off her barrier like bean bags. Arthur looked at Harry with wide eyes.

"You all do magic?" He asked in a voice both awed and tinged with the sort of fear a child harbors for the night.

Harry smiled hugely, hoping it looked reassuring and not like a grimace. "We do," he responded. Arthur didn't look reassured. "But really mate... we won't hurt you. We're only trying to help."

"I guess I have quite a bit to learn about magic, don't I?" Arthur asked, immediately going on to answer his own question. "Yes, of course I do. Come on, let's go save my manservant. I'll need Merlin if I'm to learn about all of this sorcery rubbish."


End file.
